Monday, July 24, 2006

Monday, well, here’s the thing of it. You can try to fight, try to outmaneuver the colossus, shore up against the inexorable, but in the end you’re bound for disappointment. Its teeth will seek and eventually find purchase in the fleshy part of your ass, wriggle as you may, and that’s the end of it–your tickets for Sunday Dread just booked themselves.

I’ve taken the advice proffered by peer and kin. Perhaps you likewise subscribe to some of these. Arrive early at the office. Eat a healthy breakfast. Work weekends. Do those morning stretches. Meditate. Pray to the heavens most high that maybe, just maybe, you won’t want to hang yourself come 10:30 AM. Helpful all, in their own small ways, and I imagine the sum total is worth something too. But in the end, Mondays still seem to prevail.

It’s entirely possible I’m overlooking some kind of secret Asian herbal remedy, however, drawn from stores of ancient wisdom calling for a mixture of two parts lotus seeds and one part opium and three parts tiger testicles. You know, that one. The smoothie that is my birthright. Until I discover such a thing, I’ll content myself with the best poultice available: tuning my expectations to embrace Murphy’s Law fully and keeping alert. Sometimes I find I’m pleasantly surprised.